


Through Everything I Loved

by ironxprince



Series: Blind Peter Parker AU [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blind Character, Blind Peter Parker, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince
Summary: An accident on patrol causes Peter to go blind. This is how he adjusts.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Blind Peter Parker AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757161
Comments: 23
Kudos: 353





	Through Everything I Loved

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Please note my medical knowledge is scarce, and I'm not familiar with vision loss, so I'm sorry if I misrepresent anything. ♡

It happened without warning.

One moment Tony was sitting up at the kitchen table, doing work as he waited for Peter to finish patrol and arrive safely back home, and the next Friday was speaking, the light above him flashing red.  _ Emergency _ .

“ _ Boss, Spider-Man has just been thrown against the side of a building. _ ”

Tony’s breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to remain calm. This was part of the job. Peter fought evil every night; he almost always returned home with some kind of injury, but every time he got knocked down, he always stood back up.

“ _ He’s not moving. _ ”

Tony’s tablet clattered to the table as he bolted to his feet, beginning to stumble down the hallway toward the garage as his heart beat loud in his chest. “What do you mean,  _ he’s not moving? _ ” Tony demanded as he grabbed his keys off the stand at the front door, simultaneously forcing his feet into the nearest pair of shoes.

“ _ He took the hit approximately two minutes and 47 seconds ago. He continued to fight the villain and won the battle. He is now waiting for the authorities to arrive. _ ”

Tony collapsed heavily in the driver’s seat of his Audi and turned the key in the ignition. “So he could just be relaxing post-battle?” he asked (though he knew it wasn’t true; Friday wouldn’t have contacted him for something as trivial as that) as Friday switched over to the car. “Give me his location.”

The coordinates popped up on his GPS, and Tony started driving.

“ _ Sources indicate he has a major concussion. _ ”

Tony cursed under his breath as he spurred the car on faster. “How’s he doing? Give me updates, Fri.”

“ _ His consciousness appears to be fading. It is recommended he not fall asleep _ -”

“I know,” Tony spat through gritted teeth. “How long until we reach him?”

“ _ Two minutes, Sir _ .”

“And the authorities, any EMTs on the way?”

“ _ No, Sir. _ ”

Tony cursed under his breath. “Typical. Call ‘em. Get me there faster.”

Friday did her best, and Tony arrived at the scene in just under a minute, jumping out of the car the moment the wheels stopped turning and leaving the door open behind him as he hurried out onto the street.

There was debris everywhere, a car strewn off to the side, and one of the nearby building walls was crumbling-

And just at the base of that wall lay Spider-Man, limbs tangled in a heap… blood pooling beneath his head.

Tony hurried to his side, ignoring the crowd forming, ignoring the figure dressed in green and webbed to the floor a little ways away. He collapsed near Peter, shielding him from gawking onlookers as he gently reached for Peter’s mask and pried it away from his face, taking in the damage.

His skin was pale and bruises and blood seemed to cover every inch, but Tony wasn’t worried about that - not when Peter’s eyes were unfocused, staring at the sky above him.

“Peter,” Tony said sharply, and Peter’s eyes drifted to him.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Yeah, hey, buddy.” Tony forced a smile, inching his hand to the back of Peter’s head, and fighting back a gag as he felt blood,  _ too much  _ blood.

Peter wined and his eyes fluttered shut. Tony slapped his cheek lightly, and his eyes opened to glare at Tony.

“You can’t fall asleep yet, kid, alright? You’ve gotta stay awake for me.”

“But ‘m… tired.”

“I know, Baby. I know.”

“Just a nap-”

“ _ No _ , Peter, no naps, okay? Tell me- uh, tell me about the fight.”  _ Just talk to me. Stay awake. _

“He was a meanie.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“Try’na… shoot people. Rob a bank. Weird gun.”

“Mhm,” Tony said as he looked closer at Peter’s eyes, just barely meeting his own. They were cloudy and unfocused and… and something was  _ wrong _ .

“He threw me into a building. Not nice,” Peter murmured as his head tilted to the side. Tony reached for Peter’s chin to right it.

Peter’s eyes were dull. They were  _ gray _ .

“I just managed to catch him, but… he was really blurry, Dad.”

Tony froze. “What do you mean,  _ blurry? _ ” Peter didn’t respond. Tony snapped his fingers in front of Peter’s face. “Peter.  _ Hey _ . How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Um….” Peter squinted. “Two?”

Tony lowered his single trembling pointer finger. “ _ Shit _ ,” he cursed, beginning to ease Peter’s mask back onto his face, but Peter’s hand shot up and caught Tony’s wrist.

“No,” Peter whimpered. Tony froze, leaning down. “Dad… it’s- it’s dark.”

“What do you mean?” Tony breathed, terrified. “What’s dark?”

“You,” Peter whispered, and Tony’s blood ran cold. “You’re a- a  _ shadow _ , Dad, I can’t- I can’t  _ see  _ you.”

Tears began to trail down Peter’s cheeks and Tony reached for his wrist, bringing Peter’s hand up to his cheek. “I’m right here, okay? Dad’s here. I’m right here.”

“I can’t see. Dad, I can’t- I can’t  _ see _ , please, Dad-”

“Okay,” Tony whispered as he gently pulled Peter’s mask back over his face, despite his protests. “Alright, the ambulance is here, Piccolino, okay? I can hear it, can you?”

Peter sniffled as Tony hefted him up, into his arms. “Yeah, I can hear it.” He hesitated. “Are the lights on?”

Tony looked at the blue and red reflections on the buildings around them as he jogged to the back of the ambulance parked nearby with Peter in his arms. “Yeah, they are,” he said quietly, ignoring the feeling of dread in his stomach.

Tony spoke with the nearest EMT, demanding their most equipped responders, rapidly discussing private locations and non-disclosure agreements as Peter’s eyes flitted around in the darkness.

“I don’t see them,” he whispered, but no one heard.

⠏⠑⠞⠑⠗

The doctors did what they could, but in the end, they couldn’t save Peter’s sight.

Tony sat in the corner of the room as doctors worked around him. They identified that Peter did, in fact, have a concussion, an extreme one, which had caused Peter to lose his sight. They could operate, but it would be a strenuous process on such a vital organ. Tony sat by Peter's bedside, holding his hand, as Peter took a shaky breath and told the doctors that, no, that wasn’t something he wanted to risk.

Peter would have to return to the hospital over the first little while for MRIs to ensure there weren’t any long-term effects. They bandaged up Peter’s head, gave Tony painkillers to administer whenever necessary, and left the room to meet with Tony’s lawyers and discuss the non-disclosure agreements out in the hallway.

Tony was left alone sitting at Peter’s bedside, the boy dressed in a white gown and covered in bandages, his head wrapped from the top around to the bridge of his nose. The entire top half of his face was wrapped in bandages, and Tony fought back a shiver as he lifted Peter’s hand to his lips and gently kissed his knuckles.

Peter turned his head to Tony, but Tony kept his eyes on Peter’s lips, unable to force his eyes to meet the bandages, which were becoming wet with tears.

Tony raised a thumb to swipe at Peter’s cheeks but Peter flinched back, and Tony froze.

“Sorry,” Peter whispered, wiping away the tears on his own. “Didn’t know you were gonna do that.”

“That’s- it’s alright,” Tony answered with a forced smile, before he realized Peter couldn’t see it. He raised Peter’s hand to his lips once more, holding it there.

“I’m never going to see again,” Peter said, voice cracking. Tony said nothing. “I’m never going to… the sky. I’ll never see the yellows and oranges in the morning or- or the purples and reds at night… or even just when it’s blue, with white clouds or- or the gray ones that curl across the sky during a storm-” he cut himself off suddenly with a sob.

“Come here,” Tony whispered, allowing Peter to sit up himself and waiting for him to hold his arms out before Tony reached forward and tugged Peter against him. Peter fell against his shoulder, sobbing openly as Tony rested a hand on the back of his head.

“It’s okay,” Tony tried to soothe. “It’s alright-”

“No, it’s not,” Peter cried.

“No. But you’re alive. You’re  _ safe _ .”

Peter’s voice was quiet. “Is it worth it?” Tony froze, his arms stiffening around Peter. “I’m sorry,” Peter sighed, collapsing against Tony as if his strings had been cut. “I’m sorry. I-I guess I’m lucky this is all I lost. It’s just… a lot.”

“I know,” Tony whispered. I know, but- but I’m here for you, and we’ll get through it, together, okay? I promise.”

Peter didn’t respond, and Tony didn’t let him go.

⠏⠑⠞⠑⠗

Tony guided Peter out of the hospital, Peter now wearing jeans and a white t-shirt Tony had sent Happy to pick up, along with a pair of sunglasses. Peter had informed Tony he felt insecure with other people being able to see his eyes and him not being able to see theirs. Tony guessed there would be many more requests like that in the future; they’d be figuring it out together.

“We’ll get you a cane,” Tony said as he signed them out and led them outside, Peter clinging to his left arm. “A fancy cane that says  _ Don’t mess with me _ . I can add… hm, retracting spikes, some kind of blade-”

“Like a sword?”

“Exactly like a sword,” Tony grinned, “and you can wield it to keep all those kids at school back-”

Peter stumbled, and Tony shot an arm out to catch him around the elbows. Peter took a shaky breath. “Curb?”

“Yeah,” Tony sighed as he helped Peter right himself. “Sorry, kid.”

Peter shook his head, taking a moment to lean against Tony as he caught his breath. “Not your fault.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not yours, either.”

“Then it’s the universe’s.” Tony smiled. “Tell me about it.”

“About… the universe?” Tony guided Peter across the street toward the parking lot, and the Audi he saw parked a couple rows from the front. Happy was sitting in the driver’s seat, watching them approach. He reached to put the car in drive, but Tony held out a hand, keeping him in place. He figured the more time he had to explore the world with Peter, to figure out how this new development would work, how they would fit together, the better.

“About the world,” Peter answered, sadness in his voice. Tony was determined to get it  _ out _ .

“Alright, well, the sky is… blue. It’s honestly boring, how blue it is. There are no clouds, and it’s just blue-”

“As far as the eye can see.”

Tony hurried to focus on something else, because Peter sounded  _ sad  _ to be missing the vast expansiveness of one colour. Tony imagined he would, too.

“We’ve crossed the road. We’re passing under a tree right now. The leaves are just beginning to grow and fan out, and there are these little white buds poking out.” Peter smiled, tilting his head up, as if he could see them. “There’s a bright red car to your left, very ostentatious, but it’s a Honda Civic. It has no right to be calling that much attention to itself.”

Peter laughed, and Tony smiled, enjoying how the sound seemed to float on the breeze - but it was short-lived, slowly morphing into uncomfortable silence, into reality.

They reached the car, and Tony helped guide Peter into the backseat, taking a seat beside him. Peter put on his seatbelt easily, seeming to rely on muscle memory. He dropped his head back against the headrest and turned to see out the window, before catching himself and turning his head to look straight ahead.

Tony caught Happy’s worried expression in the rearview mirror, letting his own face fall for just one moment, before masking it, if only for his sake, and turning back to Peter.

“Happy’s sitting in front of you,” Tony informed Peter. “He’s wearing this awful suit - the jacket’s black, but the shirt beneath is blue and the tie is red-” Tony cut himself off suddenly, a lump forming in his throat. Peter dropped his head with a sniffle.

“My hand is resting on the seat between us,” Tony informed Peter gently. Slowly, Peter reached out his hand and accepted it as Happy pulled onto the road.

“This loser in a white van just made a shitty move, trying to make a right turn into oncoming traffic; honestly, I should probably be reporting that-”

“Will I ever get to go out as Spider-Man again?”

Tony’s head shot to Peter, who was looking straight ahead, shoulders steady and chin raised. From this angle Tony could see Peter’s eyes from behind his glasses; his irises were off-centre.

“Well, if you work at it, we could probably come up with a way-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter bit out.

“No,” Tony said after a moment. “Probably not.” Peter didn’t react, other than to take a shuddering breath. Tony squeezed his hand tighter; Peter didn’t respond. “But we could always figure something out, right? I mean, we’ve done it before.”

“Yeah,” Peter said quietly, disbelievingly. “Maybe.”

The rest of the ride was completed in silence.

⠏⠑⠞⠑⠗

Peter requested to do the first walk-through of the house on his own - “You can’t always be by my side, right?” he had told Tony - which led to Tony now standing by the door, watching as Peter felt along walls and walked through door frames. Every now and then he’d nick his shoulder, grit his teeth, back up, and try again. He stopped in the centre of the kitchen; Tony could just see Peter’s foot from where he was standing.

“Can you just - say something? I want to try to locate your voice.”

“Okay, well-” Peter got moving instantly, turning toward Tony, but walking forward right into a wall. He groaned, feeling for the doorway. “I’m trying to come up with this new smart watch design, something easier to operate than having so many buttons on such a small screen-” Peter stumbled over a chair- “I don’t know, maybe I’ll design some kind of hologram.”

Peter latched onto Tony’s arm with a grin. “No, too annoying to use in public. It would bring too much attention to some poor sap who just wants to check the time.”

Tony grinned. “Fair point. Hey, you hungry? I’ll make lunch.”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Tony watched a moment as Peter felt for, and collapsed onto, the couch, taking a moment to relax before beginning to search for the remote. He found it tucked behind the pillows, and felt around the buttons before moving on instinct to turn on  _ Brooklyn Nine-Nine _ , knowing exactly which buttons to push and when to push them. He froze the second the audio started playing.

“Are you still there?” he called shakily.

Tony nodded, then felt heat rise up his cheeks and wanted to punch himself in the face. “Um- yeah. Right here, kiddo.”

Peter held out the remote in Tony’s general direction. “Would you mind turning on descriptive audio for me?” he asked quietly, almost… ashamed.

Tony took the remote from him and began to search for the option. “You watch this so much, I would’ve assumed you had all the stage directions memorized by now.”

Peter chuckled. “Yeah. I dunno, I figure I should practise getting used to the extra voice with something familiar.”

Tony nodded, forgetting -  _ again _ . That was something he was going to have to get used to.

“Alright, done. Do you want the remote back?”

“Sure,” Peter answered quietly, holding his hand out, palm up. Tony placed the remote in it, then enveloped Peter’s hand in his before Peter could retract it.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Dad.”

⠏⠑⠞⠑⠗

Tony sat on the couch beside Peter as they ate the beef stew Tony had prepared. He was getting lost in the storyline of the episode, getting used to the descriptive audio, when he heard Peter’s fork noisily clanking against his bowl. He looked over and saw Peter’s mouth twisted in frustration.

“I know I dropped a piece of carrot,” Peter muttered in explanation, like he could tell Tony was watching him, “but I can’t find it.”

Tony saw it, on the edge of the bowl closest Peter. Peter was reaching around the furthest edges.

“Do you want me to h-”

“ _ No! _ ” Peter shouted, before letting his fork fall to the bowl in defeat. He took a heavy breath, shifting the bowl to the cushion beside him and leaning forward to drop his head in his hands. Tony remained still - he didn’t want to be seen as pitying. He figured that would make this whole situation that much worse for Peter.

“I can’t be dependent on you for everything.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for-”

“You can’t spoon feed me like a baby!” Peter shouted, head turned slightly in Tony’s direction, but not directly toward him. Tony wondered if that was intentional, or if Peter just didn’t find the point in turning his head to someone if he couldn’t see them. “I can’t lose all independence,” he said quietly. “I-I  _ refuse  _ to. I need to figure out how to survive on my own, because I can’t go around bothering people for every single thing I can’t do - which, apparently, seems to be a lot.”

Tony took a deep breath. “Peter-”

“I can’t go out as Spider-Man. I can’t go get my license. I can’t watch t.v. without the extra settings, I can’t find the food in my bowl, I can’t walk around my  _ house _ \- shit.” Peter dropped his head into his hands once more. “I… I can’t read books anymore.”

Tony wanted desperately to reach out and touch Peter’s shoulder in comfort, maybe pull him into a hug, but Tony didn’t figure that would be welcome right now. “We can… we’ll figure something out for Spider-Man. I’ll take you out for drives as often as you want-”

“And, what, I’ll stick my head out the window like a fucking puppy?”

“Peter!” Tony shouted, and Peter flinched back at the sudden loud noise. His expression instantly morphed into one of regret. “Look, I get it-”

“You don’t.” Peter swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “Without warning, just….” He shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. “This is  _ me _ . For the rest of my life, and I just- I’m going to have to get used to it. And it  _ sucks _ . So I’m sorry… I’m going to be difficult for the… the first little while. I’ll try to get over it, but it’s going to take a while.”  _ It’s going to hurt _ .

“Can I hug you, Peter?”

Peter nodded with a faint smile. “But it’s going to be weird if you keep asking, so whenever it’s just me and you, yeah. Initiate physical contact all you want, just… try not to take it personally when I flinch.”

Tony nodded, sliding across the couch to put an arm around Peter’s shoulders. Peter didn’t flinch.

“You’re taking this like a champ.”

“I’m whining like a baby.”

“Well, then, you’re a champion baby.” Peter laughed. “You  _ are _ doing great. And I know this is new, and it’s sudden, and it’s- it’s going to be difficult, but you’re doing great. You’re fighting, and I want you to be proud of yourself for that.”

Peter nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

Tony pressed a kiss to Peter’s temple, then began to gently brush his hair away from his face. “You can let yourself feel, you know. You don’t have to repress your emotions. You don’t have to be strong.”

Peter sniffled. “If I let a tear fall, then the dam’s going to break.”

Tony held Peter closer. “Then knock it down.”


End file.
